Mosaic
by infinite vertigo
Summary: AU 'In the end we're the same, Shizu-chan,' Izaya said quietly with a glint of a smile in his dull eyes, 'You want to escape reality with sex. I want to escape reality with death. It's beautiful, isn't it? Like broken pieces of glass coming together to form a mosaic.' Shizaya
1. empty days, regretful nights

**disclaimer: don't own.**

**chapter one: empty days, regretful nights**

* * *

"_I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.__"_

-Sylvia Plath

* * *

_Thanks._

He scribbled the word onto a piece of paper and left it on the pillow where the girl would undoubtedly expect to see his face, body still in bed, still naked, preferably. But Shizuo had woken up hours before she would and quietly slipped out from the warm covers, pulling on the clothing that was hastily ripped off last night and left the apartment.

Another one night stand, another bar, another girl.

The blonde fished out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket along with the lighter. As he shook the carton expertly to inch one out, he took it between his lips and closed the carton, replacing it in his pants, other hand flipping open the lighter and held the flame to the end of the cigarette. He took a deep breath and immediately relaxed as he put the lighter back in his pocket, exhaling a puff of smoke as he continued walking.

He didn't look that bad, he knew; if anything he looked completely normal. His blonde hair was always messy, with that bedhead look, and his clothes were always casual, a t shirt and jeans, usually, nothing formal because he always knew what he was looking for when he went out.

It wasn't as if he went out at night _looking_ for someone to do.

He went out with the intention to just spend a night out, needing time alone. If he wasn't with Kasuka, his brother, or Shinra and Celty, the stupidly, annoyingly happy couple, or even Tom, his ex boss (who ended up being a friend), he was alone. There weren't very many people Shizuo would choose to spend time with and sometimes just needed that alone time.

But something would always happen when he was by himself, whether it was in a bar or at a café in the park, sipping his drink quietly. This wave of loneliness would crash over him suddenly even though he wanted to be alone; he didn't want desolation, he wanted isolation. Yet, every time after a certain amount of time, he would find himself craving company, getting antsy, not wanting to be by himself.

And then he would notice the looks he got, females or males, and he would start paying attention to them. He knew his type, he knew what words to use; how long he should let the person eye him over, how much teasing before he would lean in and kiss him or her, whichever it didn't quite matter.

He just craved human companionship.

Kasuka didn't know of this; Shizuo didn't think it would be very older brotherly to tell him how he had so many one night stands so frequently. Shinra knew and tried to talk to him, as well with Celty, but his words fell upon deaf ears.

When the medicine student (currently still in residency but he might as well be fully licensed already) asked why, Shizuo shrugged and ignored the question. He wasn't a particularly soft, emotional person, never wanting to divulge his own feelings, even if Shinra was one of his closest friends. It was an uncomfortable, unsettling feeling to know that someone knew everything about him; he was private, that was all.

Raising a hand to run through his messy bangs, Shizuo caught side of two women, just about his age, glancing at him. Had he not just stumbled out of someone's apartment he would have paid them attention, but he just continued walking, anxious to return home and shower.

The fact that this was harmful was a no brainer to him, yet he couldn't stop; he was addicted to sex, quite frankly, and it wasn't something he liked to admit. He didn't even care about names anymore; as long as the person wouldn't kill him, was willing to bottom, and wouldn't give him anything, he would go off with them.

There were good days, days where he wouldn't find himself thinking about it. And sometimes those days lasted to the next and the next; he would think he was regaining control. But then a sudden wave of despair would crash over him and he would find himself going out to drink and things would always escalate from there.

He didn't even know the girl's name that he had gone home with last night; talking never got to names and phone numbers because he never planned on a second date. He didn't want to be dragged down, didn't want someone to expect things of him, didn't want to risk not living up to those expectations.

A fear of commitment, essentially, but he never voiced that. He didn't want to admit he was scared of something like that.

The small apartment complex that he resided in came into view and Shizuo took a quick glance over it, smirking. Every time he saw his place he saw why Kasuka tried to get Shizuo to accept some money, to move out. It looked like it was breaking down, cracks in the grey cement, fire escape always seemed a bit fishy. Shizuo's windows had bars on them, almost like a prison cell, but it was for his own safety; he could take on anyone that came in but the thing was he didn't' want to fight unless necessary.

The inside of his apartment was even less impressive than the outside; at least the outside was painted over every few years to make it seem livable, to attract renters. The walls of his apartment were water stained with cracks and Shizuo was never one on interior decorating, seeing no need to cover up what was there with frivolous paintings and pictures. It was small as well; once he entered it was the living room with a small kitchen to the immediate left. To the right was a small hallway, leading to his room on the right, a closet at the end, and the bathroom to the left.

Nothing like Kasuka's modern day, spacious glass and metal apartment but, Shizuo scoffed, he could live there.

Kasuka argued the problem was that Shizuo _did_ live there.

Walking into the complex and pulling out a key, he hesitated by his mailbox, a small box near the middle on the wall of blue mailboxes. Nothing there which he found as a slight relief; nothing like the fear that spasmed through his body when he picked up the bills, trying to calculate just how much he owed. Closing the mailbox, he turned towards the staircase, a rather suspicious looking place he always thought, and he had smelled lingering scents of drugs and smoke in there.

He was jobless, yes, but he didn't mind. He had money put away for something like this (although he didn't exactly plan on being jobless at twenty five) and could do the odd job he saw in newspapers. Always a frugal person, having to monitor his electricity and water usage really wasn't that hard for him. He hardly turned on the heat or air conditioning unless he had to and never wasted water, using only what he had to. He had a crazy sweet tooth but learned how to control it (for the most part), buying things that were easy to make and would last a while.

Opening the door to his apartment, Shizuo sighed and left the keys on the table by the door, kicking his shoes off. The cigarette butt was removed from his lips and put out on the ash tray on the coffee table as he collapsed onto the couch, too lazy to get up and shower.

To someone like Kasuka, he could see how this tiny space would be cramped and atrocious. The noises from downtown Tokyo was unbearable; while Kasuka lived in downtown as well, he was in more the heart of the city, residing in a pent house high up. Shizuo was in the noisy, more suspicious side of town because rent was cheaper there and, having a black belt and all, Shizuo didn't ever consider the danger. Shinra's place was a subway ride away; not as fancy as Kasuka's but much better than Shizuo's.

Shizuo wasn't exactly close to his brother in the way that they called each other and hung out often but he was close in the way that they always knew they would be there for each other. And that was what Shizuo didn't quite like sometimes.

Kasuka was well off; he was a successful actor and had more money than he knew what to use, not even having to touch the inheritance that their parents had left him and his brother. He tried to get Shizuo to take the money he offered, saying that he really had nothing else to do with it.

When Shizuo was annoyed he would tell his brother to use it to wipe his ass, which was always followed by a gruff apology.

_"Shizuo-nii, just take it."_

_ "I don't need your money," he would sigh into the phone, annoyance clearly laced in his voice, "I'm fine."_

_ "Shizuo-nii. You skip showers."_

_ "I—"_

_ "I can smell it."_

_ "…I'm fine."_

Kasuka would always try and Shizuo would always decline; he didn't need that, he'd mutter angrily, he didn't need someone else's charity, especially his little brother's. If he needed money, he would go earn it himself, not take the easy way out, leech off of family like a parasite.

He was too prideful to do that; no matter how hard it got sometimes, he never, ever wanted to have to ask Kasuka. Appearing strong to his little brother was something Shizuo considered the most important duty of his as the older brother, to show him that he always could be strong no matter what.

Asking him for money was weak, as was admitting that he had this addiction that he knew of but refused to admit. He tried to act nonchalant, fine, even, that he was mostly alone. He had people to love, people to like, but no one super close and pretended it was fine, not wanting to admit that it really wasn't fine.

His eyes fluttered open when he heard his phone ring and reached over (this smartphone was about the only thing he would allow Kasuka to buy him and it was for his birthday), hitting 'answer' and holding it up to his ear, answering a gruff 'Heiwajima.' Kasuka went under some other name that Shizuo recognized only when it was in front of his face so he wasn't too worried that someone had accidentally found his number while stalking Kasuka.

"Hey, Shizuo."

"Ah, Tom-san," Shizuo switched his phone to the other ear, allowing his hand to feel around on the floor for a pack of cigarettes, "Do you need anything?"

"Nothing really," came the voice from the other end of the phone, "Just calling to see how you are. Found a job yet?"

Shizuo laughed shortly. "No."

"Want your old one back?"

Before he had quit, he had been acting as a bodyguard to Tom. He didn't even really need one because Tom had quite the reputation as a debt collector in Tokyo, and that was why Shizuo had quit. Easy money was good but he had come to regard Tom as a friend and didn't want to just take his money for walking around with him all day. Tom always offered him his old job back but Shizuo declined; it didn't feel right, Shizuo would answer and Tom would roll his eyes, saying how Shizuo was too kind, too moral for his own good.

"No," Shizuo answered and closed his eyes, relaxing.

"So what do you want then?"

The blonde hesitated, biting his lips.

_To stop._

* * *

"I'm not drunk…!"

"Right!" Shinra smiled brightly, holding out a glass of water to the raven resting in his guest bedroom, "You're hung over! Ah, Izaya, that was mean!"

Shinra frowned as he watched the glass be hit out of his hand and was sent flying, hitting the carpet and shattering. Pulling a face, the male turned back to the figure in his bed. He was sitting up now and had his hand brought up to his face, covering the left side with his elbow resting against the bent knee, sheets resting around his waist. His black shirt was slightly rumpled and he was in one of Shinra's pajama pants (like he would ever own anything with clouds on them.)

_"Izaya, you're awake!"_ the tapping on a PDA and electronic voice alerted him that Celty was here. Her voice had been lost because of a tumor that was removed; Shinra had met her long ago when she was still a child and his father had been her doctor. He liked to call it fate. She called it extreme luck.

"Shh, Celty, my love! Izaya's being an asshole again!"

Izaya growled and closed his eyes, wincing at the loud exclamation next to him as he heard Celty set a mug of dark coffee next to him. The aroma wafted to his nose and instantly recoiled. "Take that away."

"Izaya, don't be so mean to my dear Celty!"

"Shinra, shut the fuck up," Izaya sighed, dark brow furrowed. "Why am I even in the presence of you disgustingly bright nimrods?"

"Hung over Izaya is worse than drunk Izaya…"

"Answer the question, Shinra."

Shinra frowned at Izaya's snappy tone but turned to him as Celty left to find something to clean up the broken shards of class. "You don't remember, Izaya? You went to some bar and got wasted; the bartender took your phone and called me to take you home!"

Izaya scoffed. "Obviously you failed at doing that."

"I did not!" Shinra crossed his arms and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, "I, as a practicing surgeon, realized the dangers of leaving you home while you were drunk and puking and in the reach of more alcohol and razors—"

"I wouldn't have done anything," he hissed, eyes glaring to menacingly that Shinra found himself hesitating for once, unable to come up with an answer. He was usually good with dealing with Izaya (and his mood swings) but sometimes he was just so dark, so sour, so angry that even Shinra, his closest friend, didn't know how to deal with him.

"...Izaya," he tried again, eyes softening and frowning, "I really think you need to find—"

"I don't need anything except silence," the raven cut him off, bringing his other hand up to his face and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

Twenty four years old and severely depressed, was what he said when introducing himself to strangers, offering an twistedly saccharine smile. His usual demeanor didn't give off that vibe, he was told, but that was the intention. As depressed as he was, it was his own life that he detested, didn't want; he still had a fascination in others, in observing.

He had a hate love relationship with humanity; he loved them, loved observing and learning about them (hacking, which happened to be his job, was an excellent way to learn about people) yet he hated them because, in the end, everyone was a lie, an image of what they wanted to be. Humanity was hopeless, just driving itself towards its ultimate demise, he would think dryly. And until then, he would continue to learn about them.

He had known Shinra for a long time, ever since middle school. He seemed to be the only one that tried to get close to Izaya, to actually care for him and, although Izaya didn't let down any emotional walls, he deemed Shinra worthy to be called a 'friend.' The man was the opposite of Izaya; it seemed the only thing they really shared was intelligence, but that didn't stop them from maintaining a close bond. Shinra had tried so many times to get Izaya to seek out 'help' but the Orihara always scoffed and rolled his eyes.

_ "Why would I want to get better when I know the end result will be the same?"_

Yet he never gave up and Izaya had to admire his relentlessness. Celty, Shinra's girlfriend and basically wife, was just as patient and kind, although not as annoying as Shinra could be. Izaya wasn't sure if she actually liked him or put up with him for the sake of Shinra; her eyes would always narrow around him and a smile would seem forced. Yet, at the same time, when he showed up at their door she was always welcoming.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Shinra asked, disturbing the silence that Izaya had lost himself in. Being pulled out of his thoughts, the raven took a glance at him, feeling slightly guilty for snapping at him; after all, he was being a good friend by offering him a bed and making sure he didn't choke on his own vomit or anything.

On more than one occasion had Shinra found Izaya nearly dead; time and time again, he would laugh it off, saying he wasn't serious and that if he was then he would be dead. But they both knew it was bad luck that Shinra would find him. One called it fate. One scoffed at the idea of fate.

_"What does it feel like?"_ Shinra would ask when Izaya woke, brown eyes blinking behind glasses. As a surgeon, he was fascinated with life and death, how to save and prevent. He was one of the odder doctors, Izaya had thought with slight amusement, not showing as much remorse at death but rather interest.

_"Like hell."_

_ "Well, that's because you're going there."_

_ Izaya would laugh dryly, wincing at the after effects of whatever he had done._

_ "Hell doesn't exist. Neither does Heaven."_

"No," he answered, casting his eyes away from Shinra. He looked tired—shouldn't he be at the hospital right now?—and Izaya didn't want to be hovered over anymore, "Just go."

"Right," Shinra said, albeit a bit dubiously, and stood up, "Well, I've got to go to the hospital…"

"Aren't you late?"

"I had my own special patient," he nodded and patted Izaya on the head. If it wouldn't have killed him to move his head, he would've glared at him. "If you need anything just ask Celty, all right? And stay as long as you need."

"I don't need your hospitality!" Izaya called after him but Shinra paid him no heed, simply held up a hand and left, letting the door click shut behind him.

He sighed and leaned over, picking up the pills that were left there. After he took them with the coffee Celty had left (black coffee, she knew, was the only kind he drank), he laid down with his hands folded behind his head, waiting a few moments for the pounding headache to lessen.

It was odd how he turned out, he would muse occasionally. He had gotten straight A's all through school, and easily received a full ride to Tokyo University, his top choice school (also happening to be one of the top in the nation). He double majored in computer science and psychology with the highest honors, managing to graduate a semester early even. Overall, he seemed like a good kid, a smart kid; never thrown in jail, never been suspended for fights, never a B.

Clean record.

Good kid.

But he wasn't.

He never intended to go into engineering or anything of the sort with his computer science degree; it was simply to learn more about computers, to make hacking a bit easier. He began with small things in middle school, social networking sites and the like. In high school he moved onto larger things, such as emails and bank accounts (not that he found a need to steal anything; he always scoffed at thieving because hew as far above that.) By the time he was a college freshman, he could hack into virtually anything, whether it was someone's personal computer or a company's site.

It was then that he began his job.

Illegal, definitely, but he found he liked the rush of adrenaline of knowing it was dangerous and could get him locked up in jail. But he also like to prove that he was extremely good; he was in and out smoothly, leaving no trace. Reliable, dependable, those were traits companies sought out when hiring a hacker. Granted, he made a few mistakes, but now, nearly six years after he started, he was perfect at it.

His second major in psychology was because of his immense fascination with humanity; it helped him to understand, to comprehend. He just loved humans; he had no reason why but he did. Izaya found them endlessly fascinating, the way they lived temporarily but could leave marks forever. Their laughter, tears, joy, pain; he all found it so interesting, so intricately complex.

Yet at the same time, he was horribly misanthropic. He didn't get close to people, didn't want to, that was; he was the one that pushed people away when he felt they were getting too close, trying to learn more about him than he was willing to share. Shinra and Celty (and Kadota) were the only ones that he kept a relationship with because they knew of this and never tried to get closer.

_"Izaya?"_

The ruby eyes that had closed opened again, relieved that the sunlight streaming in didn't cause him a blinding headache. He saw up to see Celty look down, her fingers flying quickly across the PDA, a voice speaking after she hit the screen a final time.

_ "Would you care to stay for dinner?"_

"…Tonight?" he asked, frowning as she nodded.

_ "Shinra proposed it before he left."_

"…And will Shinra be back on time?" he asked, knowing how easily residents could be kept over time. Celty gave him a smile and nodded, the smile that meant 'he will do anything I say.'

The raven smirked tiredly and laid down on the pillows. "All right."

Another smile and she was gone, closing the door carefully behind her. Izaya remained still for a few moments until he heard another door close and knew Celty had gone out. It wasn't that hard to figure she would leave soon after asking him to stay because if Shinra had just proposed it, then surely she wasn't ready. And that smile also held a hint of 'and I am very angry at him.'

Opening his eyes, the raven slipped out of bed, pressing his feet to the sheepskin rug and clutching the edge of the night table as he stood up to make sure he didn't fall over. His hangover was bad, he had to admit with a wince, but nothing he hadn't dealt with before; he would be fine. Looking around, he saw his dark jeans that he had worn last night draped over the back of a chair and changed into them. After making sure all his belongs were still there, he opened the door cautiously.

_No one outside_, he nodded, _excellent, Shinra and Celty weren't being robbed today._

He supposed he was supposed to feel guilty about leaving like this after just telling Celty he would stay for dinner, he sighed again as he exited the apartment, but it was easier to lie than to say he just didn't want to be in the company of people.

He smirked as he closed the door behind him, making sure it was locked.

_It's actually quite difficult to be as insensitive as I am sometimes._

* * *

_Dinner?_

Shizuo frowned as he hit 'reply' and waited for Celty's response. After hanging up with Tom, who apparently was bored and waiting for someone so he called Shizuo to avoid looking like a loner, he had decided to read a few classics that he had lying around.

He had gone to college but wasn't exactly a straight A student. He did graduate but wasn't anything extraordinary, staying in the middle of his class; he was neither a star student nor a poor one. His major, English, was something he chose because of interest, not because he had any plans to pursue writing or teaching. He enjoyed reading literature, analyzing meanings; he especially liked poems.

It came as a surprise to many to learn that he majored in English and he could see why; the idea that someone like him, someone that seemed to be one that was violent, majoring in something that required lots of peace, quiet, and analyzing was odd. But Shizuo had grown accustomed to it; he wasn't a violent person but didn't expect people to know it upon first glance. He could be violent (and was good at it) but hated it; he would much rather lose himself in a good piece of literature than lose himself in rage.

There was something about losing himself in a book that he loved, immersing himself in a world completely different than this one. He liked to imagine himself as different, distract himself from his own problems by reading others, analyzing, understanding their pain, looking at things from a different point of view; anything to keep his mind off of the empty, aching feeling in his chest. Although, he had to admit, it was hard to get into a book because his mind would wander, but he enjoyed reading, nonetheless.

So he had been rereading _The Great Gatsby _when a text came. He had known Celty for just a few years, having met her by defending her from some perverts while she was walking home at night. She was one of the few people that never judged him or assumed, always polite and smiling. And as far as he was concerned, Shinra was good for her and he approved.

Her text had asked if he wanted to join them for dinner that night, that they hadn't gotten together in a while. The blonde was caught off guard at the invitation because it had been a while and vaguely wondered if something was wrong.

_Shinra just says he misses everyone getting together. And wants to know if you've found someone yet._

Instantly, his blonde brow set in a scowl as he texted back.

_Tell him no and I don't need him to set me up._

Celty was the world's fastest texter, as the moment Shizuo set his phone down, her text was back. But she did have a lot of practice, being unable to speak and all.

_So will you come tonight? I'd like to see you too; it's not good for you to be alone._

He hesitated at her last words, knowing what she really meant. She, of course, didn't like of his addiction, of how he seemed to use people just for one night. But at the same time she didn't reprimand him, knowing it wasn't something he chose for himself. They had a sibling relationship, caring for each other in a quiet way, and knew that if they needed support or just someone's presence, they had each other.

_And there's someone he wants you to meet. Not romantically, just… to meet._

He blinked and stared at the text, eyebrow raised. Shinra was constantly trying to find him someone, determined that once Shizuo fell in love his addiction would lessen because it was stemming from the whole loneliness concept. Shizuo, of course, didn't agree but didn't want to explain it all.

Sighing, he knew that if he said no Celty would probably come find him herself and the woman could get frightening with her PDA.

_All right._

**.author's notes: and after weeks of agonizing over a full length shizaya story, I have finally accomplished chapter one. I'm still trying to get the hang of several characters, so critique on characterization would be much appreciated. thank you for reading!.**


	2. change

**disclaimer: don't own.**

**chapter two: change**

* * *

"_Do not look for a sanctuary in anyone except yourself."_

-Siddhartha Guatama

* * *

Shizuo hadn't even rapped his knuckles against the door when it flew open, the blonde staring with wide eyes at a disheveled and frantic Shinra.

"…Hello—"

"He's gone!" Shinra wailed, dropping to his knees and covering his face suddenly with his hands, leaving Shizuo baffled at the sight. Behind him, Celty walked up and gave a smile, holding out a PDA with a message she had already typed. _"The person he wanted you to meet is gone."_

"So I see," Shizuo remarked dryly as he stepped around Shinra and entered their apartment, giving Celty a crooked smirk. "More food for us then?"

"He's gone!"

_"Ignore him."_

"Will do," Shizuo laughed slightly as he followed Celty to the kitchen, leaving Shinra a mess at the doorway. He hopped on one of the stools at the bar as Celty washed her hands and returned to preparing the vegetables she had probably been cutting when he arrived. Every once in a while she would pause to tap something on her PDA to keep a conversation going, which Shizuo appreciated because Shinra was clearly not in any state to discuss the weather with.

_"How's Kasuka doing?"_

"Fine," he answered with a nod, "We keep in touch."

_"Still offering you money?"_

The Heiwajima scoffed. "As always. Kid won't get a hint."

Celty's body shook slightly with a smile, which Shizuo understood to be her laugh. _"Family just wants to look out for each other. He's being a good brother."_

"Wish he wouldn't be so angelic," Shizuo muttered. He heard the stool next to him be pulled out and looked over nonchalantly to see Shinra sitting there, head hanging and exuding a depressing mood. Although he cared for Shinra, he couldn't help but be amused by this reaction. "Who was this person?"

"He would've been your new friend and we all know you need more of those, Shizuo!"

_"Shinra, be nice."_

Shizuo's eyes narrowed at the comment but he decided to let it slide, deciding that it was a small price to pay to watch an agonizing Shinra. He took a sip of the water Celty had set in front of him earlier before he spoke again. "What makes you think we would've been friends?"

"Because he's an asshole and so are you and-!"

_"Shinra."_

"…Because you're both friendless and—"

_"Shinra."_

"Just because I thought you two would make good friends!" he gave up, tensing at each blip of Celty's PDA.

The blonde took another sip of water, watching Shinra carefully, eyes narrowed. Shinra always tried to find Shizuo friends; actual friends that, he hoped, would turn into a future partner. Of course, Shizuo wasn't at all touched by this gesture; rather he found himself immensely annoyed and scared all of them off.

Placing the glass back down on the counter, he leaned his chin to his palm, resting his elbow on the hard surface and expelled a sigh, closing his eyes as he listened to the bleeping of Celty's PDA and Shinra's overdramatic speech pattern.

Time and time again he had hinted that he didn't want a relationship or commitment, knowing that Shinra would pick up on it. But he continued to ignore that, continuing to push Shizuo into a relationship, thinking that if he could just fall in love, his addiction would cease.

Of course, it wasn't that simple, but Shinra didn't seem to be capable of understanding that. He was a doctor but more or a less a surgeon, not a psychologist. Not that Shizuo had ever been to one, or had the intention of going to one, but Shinra didn't understand anymore than Shizuo did; he was sick, a legit mental illness that couldn't be solved with some flurry of romance.

He took another sip of water and reached into his phone when he felt it vibrate, flipping it open to see a text.

_Shizuo-nii,_

_ Are you free tonight?_

Celty and Shinra were arguing again; he could tell from the rapid PDA bleeps and Shinra's whining. The blonde found it ironic that the one night Kasuka had off was the only night he didn't.

_I'm at a friend's. Is it important?_

The response came a few moments later.

_Ah, no, just wondering. Some other day._

Shizuo scanned the message and set his phone down; he was always the one to end the conversation first, surprisingly. Even though Kasuka was the one that spoke no more than necessary, he was the one that texted no more than necessary, something that they didn't find odd until someone brought it up.

"Shizuo! Tell Celty that you want mushrooms in your stir fry-!"

_"Shinra! Stop it!"_

Shizuo couldn't help but allow a smirk to pull the corners of his lips upwards, one side higher than the other as he watched Celty berate Shinra, the doctor frowning at him with his large eyes.

"I like mushrooms."

"See, Celty my dear-?!"

"Just not in stir fry."

"Haaah? Shizuo!"

* * *

_Izaya, are you all right?_

He stared at his phone for a few moments, wondering if he should reply. Heaving a small sigh, he decided the least he could do for Celty was text back a 'yes, just wanted to go home' as a thank you for not chewing his ear off like Shinra would undoubtedly do later; of the two, Shinra was always the more reactive, energetic one.

Putting his phone down on his desk, the Orihara leaned back in his chair as he swiveled around to look through the floor to ceiling glass windows of his office. His apartment—more like a pent house, actually—resided in one of the wealthier areas of Tokyo. He had money and he liked to show it, simply put.

He had thought about getting an actual office for his work but saw no reason to; as a hacker, most of his jobs were given to him over the phone or meeting in public places such as cafes. Large business owners and CEOs couldn't just randomly drop by for a visit without attracting some kind of attention and that was fine by Izaya; he didn't want strangers in his house anyway.

Letting a sigh break past his lips, Izaya closed his eyes as a wry smile tugged at his lips. The problem with being friends with someone in the field of medicine was that that person thought he could solve absolutely _anything_. Shinra had the false idea that he could somehow drag Izaya out of his depression by making him spend time with others and not being lonely but it wasn't like that.

When he was with others, he felt even more lonely. A foreboding sense of loneliness would pervade him and he would find himself drowning in it. The presence of others made him want to shrivel up, the sound of their voices deafened him. He wasn't good with people and forcing him to spend time with others was his version of a living hell.

Being alone was his solace and poison; somehow, the one thing that calmed him down was also the thing that could so very easily lead to his downfall.

Silence was peaceful and quiet; silence was the only time when he could focus solely on himself. But that was why it also happened to be the worst possible thing to him; when it was silent, he focused solely on himself. He thought about everything, from his existence to others, from his life to others, always returning to that same, single thought:

_I don't want to be alive._

He had tried to take his own life several times.

Pills, razors, alcohol; he couldn't get his hands on a gun (wouldn't pass the background inspection because of time spent in a mental hospital that was completely Shinra's fault) and he didn't want to be found hopelessly dangling by a rope. Each time had been a failure and Shinra joked that he wasn't meant to take his life by his own hands.

Izaya would smirk dryly at the words.

_ "Then I'll make it meant to be."_

He had never expected to live past thirty and was completely fine with that. It didn't scare him in the slightest bit to know that he would be dying soon, in less than a decade; it actually gave him a sort of solace to know that this suffering, this prison, this hell would be over with soon. And there was no doubt in his mind and it would be by his own hand; not illness, not a freak accident, not a murder, but definitely his own hand. He would know it, it would be instant, he'd be expecting it. He was completely calm about it.

Of course, he was the only one that was fine with this.

Shinra and Celty weren't, both trying to "help" and socialize with him, remind him constantly that if he wanted to talk they would be there. But that was _if_ he wanted to talk; Orihara Izaya was a private person, the idea of telling someone everything about himself was terrible.

Kadota also wasn't fond of this mindset. A friend from middle school, Kadota was, Izaya supposed, his "best" friend although they weren't close. He was closer to Shinra but, at the same time, had an odd bond with Kadota. They treated each other like acquaintances or slight friends but that bond made them feel closer. He didn't know the extent of Izaya's depression, of his mentality, but he knew enough so that his eyes would always drop to the Orihara's wrists when they met, a slight scowl crossing his features because his wrists were always covered.

Mairu and Kururi, his sisters, didn't quite care. Or maybe they did and didn't show it, but Izaya was fairly sure they didn't care. He wasn't close to them and he was fine with that; he was the one that wanted their relationship to be that way, anyway. The first few years after the death of their parents, he had coddled them. But when he turned sixteen, he completely changed and the twins, after a few years of confusion, accepted it. Whenever Shinra asked Izaya why he would change the subject after giving a hesitant shrug.

"Izaya."

An eye cracked open to see Namie standing before him—how had she gotten in without him noticing?—and a manila file was dropped on his desk, a resounding thud echoing in the room. Izaya smirked dryly and reached out, picking it up. "New job?"

"Not urgent," she answered in a monotonous voice, "And next time you disappear for a night, please tell me beforehand or just end up dead."

Namie was the final person that knew about his depression and the slight extent of it. She was his secretary and didn't like him very much, if at all, and Izaya had found her remarks and wishes for him to drop dead rather amusing. Whether or not she actually meant them was unclear and, frankly, he didn't care either. Even if she didn't like him, and he couldn't say he liked her, she was the only other one to have a key to his apartment, mainly because she needed to be able to come in and out to deliver him papers and job assignments.

"Who's the client?" he asked, setting the folder outside after seeing that it would be due in two weeks' time. The sooner one needed information, the more he charged, and so most of his jobs were due in a few weeks. They were still expensive, of course, but much less so than something he had to do within a day.

"Some electronics company," Namie answered and turned around, "Read the file yourself."

"You're not a very good secretary, you know that?"

"You're not a very good human," she remarked and exited his apartment, letting the door close behind her.

Izaya couldn't help but chuckle dryly, eyes closed as he leaned back in his chair again, a sad smile etched on his pale lips.

"I know."

* * *

"Shizuo. Shizuo!"

The blonde's attention was quickly brought back to his friend, an unintelligible 'huh' escaping his tongue as he looked at him. Two days had passed since he had dinner with Shinra and Celty, and everything had gone back to normal; the dinner was nice, giving him a temporary reprieve of himself, but it had been just a one time thing.

He had gone out with Tom, at first wary because the other wanted to go drinking, but he thought he would be fine. For the last two days he was completely fine, satisfied, able to distract himself. But here with the pounding music, flashing lights, alcoholic drinks, those looks, that knowledge that someone _wanted_ him…

Shaking his head, he took a deep gulp of his drink and finished all of it, motioning to the bartender for a second. Tom's eyes had widened in surprise at Shizuo's odd behavior but said nothing of it, continuing to drink his own.

"You all right?"

"Fine," Shizuo muttered, suddenly staring hard at his new gin and tonic.

_Don't, don't, don't, you're fine, fine, fine.._

"So what've you been up to lately?" Tom asked suddenly, noting his friend's reaction and decided to try to change the topic, "I've been a bit bored… surprisingly not that many debts to collect. Whenever someone remembers that I've got connections to you, they instantly hand over the cash… I feel like I should be paying you for letting me use your name…"

_It's okay, okay, okay, you're strong, strong, strong…_

"Ah…! Can you hold on? I just saw someone I was looking for, I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't want you to scare him off, you know?"

And before Shizuo could protest, Tom had gotten off and was halfway across the room when the blonde looked up, brown eyes wide. Tom couldn't go, how could he let Shizuo sit by himself in a place like this? Didn't he _know_ what would happen? He couldn't leave Shizuo _alone_, loneliness was what _caused_ all of this…

"Here by yourself?"

Tensing, Shizuo turned around to see a girl that had occupied the stool at the bar next to him. It was always a girl that approached him (although, he had to admit, he couldn't blame males; it was terrifying to not only worry about rejection but also about sexuality) at bars like these, the ones he frequented because of their good reputations. She was pretty, certainly, with dark, long hair and bangs that skimmed her large, brown eyes, a tight dress hugging her body, a coy smile tugging on shiny lips, make up not overdone…

He could feel that need, that desire to be _with_ someone, not the sex, not the pleasure, but just that closeness, proximity, physicality, knowledge that someone wanted him, that he wasn't lonely…

_No_, his mind was saying, _I'm here with a friend._

"Yeah," he found his tongue working before his mind could tell it otherwise and, even worse, an arrogant smirk found its way onto his lips as she took a seat next to him, "I am."

Tom was gone for just five minutes but five minutes was all it took for them to confirm that their thoughts and expectations were the same.

Before he could stop, he had kissed her tentatively at first, just to make sure that there was _something_ there. And when she smiled at him and whispered that there were rooms, he allowed her to lead him to one, their fingers gently intertwined.

And when the door closed, he kissed her again, ravenously this time. His hands worked at her zipper just as hers worked at his shirt, his jeans, his buckle, the kiss never broken, sharp breaths and moans filling the quiet room as he pushed her down on the bed.

Every night went like that, every night was a blur. He remembered kissing, stripping, touching; he remembered the sounds, the feels, the flushed cheeks, the arched backs. He knew that running his hand along one's body would elicit a strong reaction, that he could smirk and the other would just seem to fall limp and look at him.

It all became a blur in his mind as that need for companionship to not be alone took over his mind and he became a monster almost, grunting and hardly saying anything as the other writhed, screamed, moaned beneath him. Hands clawed at his back, grabbed at his hair but he just smirked, kissing the other into silence if they were getting too loud.

What felt like five minutes to him would be an hour to the other, exhaustion painted clearly over their face, a tired smile before they would drift off to sleep. Shizuo would find himself laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to just simply close his eyes and sleep like the other.

Even there in bed with a stranger, still unclothed and after engaging in the most physically intimate act possible, he still felt lonely. Although it had been an hour, he hardly remembered; he was overtaken by this wave of guilt, of not being able simply be satisfied, be content.

It wasn't the other person's fault, really, it wasn't; it was his own. He had some kind of a fucked up mentality of feeling alone, always so terribly isolated, and he tried to fix that with sex, thinking that sleeping with someone would solve his problem, fill that empty void he felt.

But all it seemed to do was make him want a cigarette.

Sighing, Shizuo would turn on his side and try to sleep.

It wasn't the other's person fault and so that was why he would make sure to wake up early and sneak out, not wanting to go through excuse after excuse to not leave a number. He didn't want to see the other again, to run the risk of a relationship; he didn't want to possibly develop affection because he knew they would be just as disappointed with him as he was.

_I use others relentlessly but I don't want to hurt them. Does that make sense?_

Every touch, every kiss, every feel made him feel more isolated. It was like he was watching himself get close to someone but he didn't feel it; he felt lonelier, feeling that everyone else was fine, what was wrong with him?

He closed is eyes, trying to relax.

_I'll get it right one day. Maybe. Hopefully._

_Probably not._

* * *

"Eh? So where'd he go? …Oh, I see. …Yeah, I'll tell you if he calls. Don't worry, Tom-san! Shizuo's a big boy! …Yes, I know I shouldn't joke… all right, bye!"

"Shizuo?" Izaya asked, feeling more curious than irritated at the name, "Something happened?"

"Ah, he's just a friend. He's the one I wanted you to meet!" Shinra added brightly with a grin, "But that didn't work out well. He went out drinking with Tom last night and when Tom went to get the rest of his money from some person, Shizuo disappeared. So he's kind of worried but I told him not to, after all, Shizuo used to be a bodyguard and is a black belt so—"

"I see," Izaya cut him off with a grave nod, his annoyance settling in again. Bringing a hand up to press his fingers to his temple, thin eyebrows knit together, "Now leave."

"How mean, Izaya!"

_"We were just worried about you, Izaya!"_ came from Celty's PDA and Izaya couldn't help but sigh again.

When the door to his apartment opened, Izaya was fully expecting it to be Namie, bringing him another job or coming in to finally announce she was quitting (her hatred for him was quite obvious to the sharp man), but when it turned out to be Shinra and Celty, Izaya was less than pleased. Looking up from papers of information that he was double checking, crimson eyes narrowed to see the two standing in front of his desk.

"As you can see, alive and breathing," he muttered, looking up and giving them a faux smile, "You can leave now."

_"Izaya…!"_

They meant well and Izaya could understand why they felt the need to check up on him. But the thing was he didn't _want_ them to check up on him. It made him feel like he was a five year old boy and couldn't be left alone; like Shinra and Celty thought he was so mentally unstable that the moment he was left alone he would try to take his own life.

He wanted to scoff. It wasn't _that_ simple.

Strictly speaking, he didn't have ups and downs; he never felt like he was getting better or worse, remaining at the same level of depression all the time, always wanting to die, always wishing he was dead. But at the same time, he always held this fascination for humans, even at his low point. When he wanted to die, to disappear, he couldn't help but think about the rest of humanity.

How did they live?

How did they be happy?

_How?_

Of course, his desire for an answer to the question was strong, but not strong enough to cause him to put down the razor, the pills, to alcohol. It was something that kept him going through the day but not something to pull him over the edge. What did push him over was something he didn't know of; sometimes he would just fall into this pit without warning, although other times something triggered it.

Either way, he was still alive so he didn't think much of it.

Celty and Shinra were probably worried about that, that their luck would run out, that one day they would knock and there would be no answer, just a corpse behind the door. One day Celty wouldn't be able to act like a fussy mother and one day Shinra would have to watch his first patient die, one day that could come all too soon.

"Anyway, there's a reason I came here," Shinra took a step forward and pulled out a piece of paper, smoothing it out and offering Izaya a grin as he held it out, "You should go!"

It took Izaya less than a second to glance it over and answer a monotonous 'no.'

"But-!"

"I don't do therapy," Izaya snarled, eyes narrowed, "I don't talk about my feelings, I don't try to get better, so stop trying-!"

"But you don't even have to talk! It's just for people that are like you and-!"

"No means _no_!" Izaya's palms came crashing down on the table, a loud sound surprising the two of them, the usually calm raven losing his temper. It was rare but it happened, although usually in a more subtle way. But when Izaya really got angry, it was not a wise decision to push him further; the man was dangerous, one of the most dangerous in the city for a reason.

_"Just…"_ Celty hesitated before her fingers continued to type, _"…At least keep the flyer. Please?"_

Izaya scoffed but she smiled at him because he didn't say no.

* * *

"Game night!"

"Game night?"

_"Game night?"_

Celty knew that they didn't have much luck with Izaya but lying to Shizuo was a terrible idea.

The blonde was frowning as he exhaled a puff of smoke, averting Celty's disapproving gaze, cigarette held between his two fingers. He was freshly showered when Shinra and Celty appeared at the door and immediately Celty knew why, especially when she could smell the scent of perfume lingering on the shirt he tossed onto the ground while stripping on the way to the bathroom.

"I don't like games," came as Shizuo's answer and Shinra's face fell, frowning.

"They'll have cake too! And it'll be free!"

"…Cake?"

Of course Celty wanted Shizuo to get help, but not like this, not with him being lied to. Unable to stop herself, she pulled out her phone and typed out the explanation to Shizuo, simply elbowing Shinra when he protested.

_"He's lying, Shizuo. It's a support group for people that need to talk about anything. Shinra just wants you to go so he's using false promises…"_

"No, they might really have cake! See?" he jabbed at the flyer he pulled out, "'Refreshments'! That might mean cake!"

"But not game night."

"You just said you didn't even like games!"

Taking the flyer from him, Shizuo's brown eyes scanned over it. Part of him was about to crumple it up and throw it away, tell Shinra and Celty to get out, that their attempts to "fix" him weren't going to work, that he was beyond repair, that they should just give up already.

But at the same time, he couldn't. He didn't want to think that he was at the point of no return because he certainly didn't feel like that; he still felt like he could possibly get better, that he still had hope. Eyes narrowing, he continued to stare at the flyer.

Of course, this wasn't something he had to do, but to change he would have to do things he didn't want to. He didn't want to confront this, to talk about it, to open himself up, but he didn't want to stay like this, living a life of isolation and guilt, of using others, of running away.

Closing his eyes, he remembered last night, the smile of the girl, the soft 'thank you' before she went to sleep, how she sincerely seemed to enjoy what had happened. And then he imagined her surprised and disappointed face when she woke up along, left with nothing but a note saying goodbye and also saying that he had paid the bill.

He didn't want to do that to anyone else anymore.

Heaving a sigh, the blonde reopened his eyes and folded up the flyer, putting it in his pocket.

"Fine."

**author's notes: now that I finished Elastic, I'll be able to properly focus on this (hopefully). still working on characterizations (because the only ones I'm used to writing are Shizuo and Izaya) so critique (or any kind of review) would be much appreciated and welcomed. thank you for reading!**


	3. faux smiles and silver rings

**disclaimer: don't own.**

**chapter three: faux smiles and silver rings**

* * *

_"The sadness will last forever."_

-Vincent van Gogh

* * *

_"Tomorrow night. Six in the evening at the address there. It'll run for two hours. Go if you have time, Izaya. Maybe you'll like it. You can even observe your humans!"_

Shinra had ended it with a joke but the desperation passing in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by Izaya. The slender raven sighed and spun around again in his chair, hearing Namie come in and leave his lunch—ootoro—on his desk. He was grateful she never chastised him about slacking off for two reasons: one, he didn't want to be chastised and two, if she started to show any signs of caring for him he would be severely freaked out.

She hesitated, obviously seeing the flyer that Izaya left on his desk. A few moments later she left, offering no words; Izaya hadn't expected her to say anything, after all. He didn't expect her to care for him. The only reason she would only care about his life would probably be concerning her paycheck.

Red eyes closed and he leaned back, crossing his arms and resting them across his stomach, letting out a slow sigh.

He supposed he should go, just to entertain Shinra. The doctor would probably be glad that Izaya had at least made an attempt and listened to him; it would just be a few hours of an evening that he didn't have any plans for anyway. If he were a good friend, if he cared about others, he would go, just to humor Shinra and Celty.

But the thing was, he _wasn't_ a good friend. He wasn't really a good person in general, Izaya thought dryly with amusement, and he was fine with that.

Standing up, he grabbed his fur trim jacket and slipped it on easily as he walked out of his well kept apartment, hardly giving a second glance to the ootoro on his desk—he had no appetite, not even for fatty tuna.

It was cold in the city, he thought as he put his hands in his pockets and began to stroll around on the sidewalk, heading towards a busy street, but he didn't mind the cold. It reminded him of himself and his personality; he wasn't a particularly warm and kind person to begin with and the heat always made him agitated; he hated being sweaty and feeling suffocated, much rather shiver instead and begin to lose sensation in limbs.

As usual, he came out without any idea of where to go and had probably been walking for a good twenty minutes before he finally knew where he was going and began heading there. It seemed that most of his walks ended up being like that: he never came out with a clear intention but found one sooner or later. Worse case scenario would be him walking around aimlessly for hours, but it wasn't like he had any pressing matters to attend to.

He turned the corner and headed towards the bridge, nonchalantly hopping over the fence. The cars that were whizzing by behind him couldn't do anything and it wasn't a path most people took, so he wasn't worried about being caught. Carefully, making sure to not loose his balance, Izaya walked along the narrow path, hand holding onto the railing precariously, more as a reassurance to the drivers in the cars than for his own safety.

Finally, he stopped at a place where he was mostly concealed by the metal beams of the bridge, leaning back against the railing. His arms wrapped around it lazily just because if he died he wanted to make sure it was on purpose, not because of a silly accident and crossed an ankle over the other, siting as the wind blew again, causing a few strands of dark hair to brush against his face.

The raven looked out over the river, a dark, dirty kind of blue-green that would be an absolutely terrible grave for someone as sophisticated as him, he thought. Closing his eyes, he leaned back and breathed in, the vague scent of the river—not salty, like the ocean, just a distinct smell—reaching him and he breathed out, already feeling himself begin to calm down.

Not everyone who comes to the bridge wants to jump, he always wanted to tell people giving him anxious looks, some just need to clear his head.

There was something relaxing about being close to death, Izaya had always thought. Something about being so high, looking down, knowing that if he just made the simple movement of jumping that it would end everything calmed him. Maybe it was because he wanted to but maybe it was also because he was reminded that he still did have control over something.

Drowning, though, wasn't his preferred way to go. Too slow. Too cold. Too heavy.

"Now… what was it that I came out here to think about?" Izaya sighed and looked down again, giving a tired smirk. "Ah. That's right. Shinra's little flyer…"

Izaya didn't linger on things that didn't interest him, hardly giving something the time of the day unless it caught his interest. Yet Shinra's suggestion wouldn't leave him alone, continuing to seep back into his mind and interrupt his daily stream of consciousness. The raven hooked his wrists around the railing, hands loosely clenched as he tipped forward, wanting to feel the danger but not fall.

The wind picked up as he moved forward until half his feet were off the ledge and he let out a deep breath, expression completely lax. He supposed he could go and observe the others; he wasn't one to take advantage of those susceptible but he supposed he only wanted to observe those suffering from an outsider's perspective. Everyone's pain was different, he thought, everyone had a kind of personal pain that others could only try to understand. And he wanted to understand that.

He leaned forward a bit more and opened his eyes for a moment, just to measure the height, and closed his eyes again, enjoying the vertigo feeling. He continued to tip forward, just for the exhilaration, feeling relaxed. There was a reason he always did this; no one interrupted him because the spot was secluded and, should he choose to, his body wouldn't be discovered for at least a few days…

"Oi, what the _fuck_ are you doing?!"

Crimson eyes flew open when he felt a pair of arms encircle his chest and pull him over, the sudden force and jerking movement painful and nearly suffocating. Izaya hardly managed to get a startled 'what?' out as he was pulled over and falling on top of his "savior"—that was, if he needed salvation.

"What the hell?!" he growled and immediately got on his feet, stumbling a few steps away. He pulled his clothing straight and glared at the blonde still on the ground, raising a hand to his head and returned the raven's glare.

"Saving you, dumbass!"

"I wasn't trying to die, you utter protozoan!"

"Proto—then why are you hanging off that railing?"

"I was _thinking_!" Izaya retorted sharply. As the male rose to his feet, he used that moment to calm himself, regain his composure. His eyes skimmed over the male, a habit he picked up from all his observing. He always looked over the other and created a general impression, one that would be shaped later through conversation.

He was lean and well built, explaining why he had so little trouble dragging Izaya over the railing. Messy blonde bangs concealed brown eyes ever so slightly and he was pissed, Izaya noted with muffled glee, he liked people when they were angry because that was when their true personalities came out. Tall as well and the raven wondered just what he did for a living; with that stature and strength, the position as a bodyguard seemed to fit him well.

"Thinking while about to fall off?"

Izaya gave a nonchalant shrug and a lazy smirk. "Clearing my mind. What were _you_ doing here, hm?"

"I saw you!" the blonde snapped, fists clenched and Izaya noticed he was holding a bag that had a slight tear in it—probably dropped it earlier, "while I was walking home. Stupid, brainless idiot!"

"Aaah? And how did you see me, exactly?" Izaya asked, voice possessing the almost jolly like quality that he adopted when amusing himself, "You'd have to be peering down here… no one ever sees this spot, you know."

"It's not that hard to see when you're walking past on the bridge itself!"

"Ha? Walking on the bridge?" Izaya was genuinely surprised at this. "…Why?"

"Because it's the shortest way home!"

"…You don't have a car?"

"I don't have money to waste on something like that when I can _walk_!"

"What about the subway?"

"Backed up!"

"Taxi?"

"Expensive!"

"Bike?"

"I'd throw it at your head!"

Izaya crossed his arms and frowned, surveying the other as if genuinely concerned.

"Do you not know how to ride one?"

"You fuckin' bastard-!"

"I see, how reassuring to know! I thought you were just some uncivilized brute that interrupted people from their daily sessions of peaceful contemplation but, alas, it seems I was wrong!" Izaya gave a saccharine smile and gave one final pull at his jacket to straighten it. He put his hands in his pockets and walked around the male, hesitating by the man's side and giving a mock two finger salute, the light glinting off of silver rings that Shizuo suddenly noticed. "I'd ask for a name but… ah, you'd forget mine and I have no further business seeing you after today."

"You-!"

But before Shizuo could take a proper swing at the person, he had hopped over the railing and was casually strolling away. Shizuo followed but turned the opposite way, scoffing.

"Goddamn flea."

* * *

Shizuo had met his fair share of strange people, being the bodyguard to a debt collector, but the person today was definitely the strangest and most annoying.

He was scowling when he returned home, dropping the bag of microwaveable ramen and easy to prepare food carelessly on the kitchen table as he walked past. The jacket he was wearing was stripped off and tossed lazily to the side as he collapsed onto the couch, bringing an arm to rest across his now closed eyes.

The morning began with his checking of the refrigerator and realizing that he had no food left, prompting him to go buy more, should Kasuka drop by unannounced and give his room a check. Ramen may not be the best but, Shizuo would say, at least he was eating.

The convenience store wasn't too far a walk and Shizuo had grabbed keys, money, and a coat before he departed. The scowl set on his face scared off anyone that tried to talk to him and he didn't mind; in a way, he appreciated his hunger because it kept him from thinking about anything else except that constant aching pain and growl.

Since he had memorized the layout of the convenience store, buying what he needed was quick and he was on his way home before he even realized it. Pedestrians didn't take the bridge he walked across very often but Shizuo wasn't scared of being hit and saw no point in taking the longer way. It was usually devoid of any other people so when he saw black hair, it peaked his interest. And when he realized the person was on the wrong side of the railing, he had immediately jumped into action.

Which was odd because he wasn't what one would call _kind_. Celty insisted he was; a bit crude but deep down he was kind hearted, one of the kindest she had ever known. He would brush it off with a cough and light blush, but she'd smile and insist upon it. But whatever the reason, Shizuo would never stand by and let someone fall to his death, even a stranger. Because he knew how terrible life could be, how horribly lonely and depressing, but no one should end his life early.

_If I suffer_, he was thinking as he hoisted the person back over, _then you do too, you bastard. Got it?_

He wasn't expecting a reaction of gratitude; whatever the reason, the person obviously meant to be there and wouldn't like to be forced back over the railing. So the raven's response at first made sense but he seemed to calm down, which simply made Shizuo more enraged.

The other male was smirking, acting nonchalant. Whether or not he was telling the truth, Shizuo wasn't sure, but he knew it irritated him that he treated life so carelessly, that he was dangling over the railing and didn't quite care if he lived or died. He switched moods, suddenly, and it seemed like he was mocking; like he didn't care he could've easily died just moments earlier. As much as Shizuo hated living, hated his constant emptiness and addiction, he couldn't stand people who treated life as a _joke_. It wasn't a joke, not in the least; people suffered and those who took it lightly, took suffering lightly pissed him off.

_Fucking bastard._

He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, choosing to push those thoughts out of his mind. It wasn't as if he was going to see that person again anyway; a freak coincidence with a freak, why should he waste effort on thinking about it?

Yet he couldn't forget. The voice and smirk was engraved in his mind, black hair and crimson eyes. Something about him was off, something about the smaller male had intrigued Shizuo. He was suffering, obviously, yet his demeanor was unlike what Shizuo expected. He had thought that he would be withdrawn and quiet, ashamed and embarrassed. But he played it off with a smirk and a shrug, feigning a confidence that seemed so genuine in some aspects.

_But you're sad._

He saw the moments between his words, how for a fleeting second the kid's guard would be let down. Red eyes stole a glance at the railing, at the water and Shizuo picked up on small movements like that because he was accustomed to them; the easiest way to read someone was to notice them when they weren't doing anything.

_He's gone now_, Shizuo sighed, mentally berating himself for still thinking of him, _and whatever happens to him is his own goddamn fault._

A brown eye opened wearily as he turned over and grabbed his phone from the coffee table, hitting a random key to see the time. It still wasn't noon and he had until six for that meeting Shinra told him about. He could still back out, Shizuo thought as he replaced his phone, he wasn't obligated to go and could make up an excuse—Shinra wouldn't know.

Except he would know and he'd know it was an excuse. And to make it worse, he would give Shizuo an apologetic smile and shrug, dismissing it, saying _maybe next time then?_

Shizuo had tried to go to a few of these in the past but always backed out, sometimes days beforehand, sometimes minutes. The idea of opening himself up didn't appeal to the blonde; if he couldn't face himself, how could he stand letting someone else see everything of him, look at all his sins and secrets? And, worse yet, how was he supposed to allow someone else to accept him when he couldn't? He was terrible, he knew, scum for using people, for sleeping around, for doing something so careless that he _should_ take seriously, _should_ consider, _should_ be done with as few people as possible.

But he couldn't help it; he had an addiction and a hollow feeling that only one thing would fix, even if it was temporary.

So he would force himself to go this time. Sit through at least one meeting because he was tired of being ashamed when he had to sneak out of apartments or hotel rooms, embarrassed when Shinra and Celty would be kind to him, humiliated when Kasuka asked what he did at night. He was tired of living what felt like a double life; he didn't care about riches or fame, but he cared about dignity and morals. If anything, he didn't want to be a terrible example for Kasuka; he wanted to be the kind of big brother that could be completely open and that Kasuka could look up to.

_I just hope I'm not beyond redemption._

Swinging his legs over the side of the couch, Shizuo stood up and headed towards the kitchen, scratching his head as he did so. He retrieved a glass from the cupboard and closed it gently—last thing he needed was to waste money on fixing a cabinet—and filled it with water from the sink.

After he took a deep sip, he began to feel better and closed his eyes, leaning against the counter. It was at times like these when he felt normal; he was listening to the silence in his apartment and the distant and muffled sounds of a few neighbors arguing and walking around. But he had become accustomed to those sounds and considered them part of his silence, coming to relax and being tense when it truly was completely silent.

At moments like these, he felt _normal_. He was a single bachelor in his apartment, relaxing and taking a sip of water. He had no errands to run, no dates to meet, no friends to call; he was by himself and content with what he had and not focused on what he was missing in his life. There was no hollow feeling inside of him, a painful ache that was completely mental but felt so physical that it made Shizuo want to keel over and hold himself to make the pain go away.

Sometimes he could be genuinely normal that it gave him hope. Because, he reasoned as he filled his glass again for more water, if he could have moments he could continue to have them and have more and more until they weren't just moments, they were phases. Then phases would longer and they would ultimately become the norm, _his_ norm.

He took a sip of water to prolong this moment.

* * *

"You have to go?"

Lying was never Shizuo's strong point, but he was sure being an older brother wasn't either. So he found it ironic that the only time he had to lie was when he was being an older brother, a depressing situation for him to always find himself in. He turned around to face Kasuka and gave a shrug and a nod. "Yeah. Sorry."

"It's fine," Kasuka raised a hand as if to brush it off, "just a bit surprised that Shizuo-nii's actually got plans. Job interview?"

A blonde brow arched and an amused half smile played on Shizuo's lips as he took out a cigarette. "What do you think?"

"Ah, that's right," Kasuka nodded, eyes watching his brother light the cigarette carefully and with displeasure, "Not possible. Shizuo-nii, when _do_ you plan on getting a job?"

He replaced the lighter and took a drag, instantly feeling his nerves begin to calm down. He tried not to smoke around Kasuka too much, knowing his little brother absolutely loathed it, but old habits died hard and this was an addiction. It was nearly as bad as his other addiction but he went through great lengths to make sure that Kasuka never found out about that.

"When the time is right," he answered vaguely, giving a shrug again and lifting the cigarette to his lips, "when I decide to."

Kasuka shook his head. "You're a terrible role model for me."

The older Heiwajima gave a smirk as he bade Kasuka a farewell and turned around, heading towards the address that was on the flyer that Shinra had given him. _You have no idea_ had popped into Shizuo's mind as an answer to Kasuka's words and he felt shame wash over him.

He wished he could control himself and stop, but he couldn't; the addiction was nearly as bad as his nicotine one (worse, actually, he could hold off having a cigarette, but he couldn't hold off wanting sex, he found). A sudden phone call from Kasuka had disrupted his otherwise relaxing and _normal_ day, but it would hardly be appropriate for him to refuse to see his little brother, who he saw very seldom of anyway.

The coffee shop they met at was just a few blocks away from the center that Shizuo needed to be at in about two hours and he figured that if Kasuka really was persistent in asking and finding out (which, Shizuo knew, he wouldn't be) he could easily make up a story about having to meet someone there, the wife of one of the people he had to deal with back when he met when he was still working with Tom. The story had gotten extremely elaborate because when Shizuo lied, he found himself complicating it, and was beyond relieved that Kasuka simply let him go.

The idea of being honest and open still scared him and made him nervous; a good part of him wanted to go back to his apartment and pretend he never tried. But he was tired of looking forward to moments that should be a norm in his life and tired of feeling judgment and disappointment. Because, even though it didn't seem like it, Shizuo was an optimist at heart and wanted to improve himself and his life, feeling that he genuinely had a chance and could set everything right.

He pulled out his phone and pulled up the picture he had taken of the flyer and scrutinized it, seeing the number. Eyes then raised to the building he had stopped in front of. After making sure it matched, he pocketed his phone and walked in, quickening his steps to hold the door open for an elderly woman making her way out.

"Thank you," she gave him a smile and he returned it with a straight face but a nod, entering after her. He looked around, wondering what this building was; he had been in this city all his life but had never seen this building. It was well maintained but rather empty, the lobby having just a few plants besides the elevator he was waiting in front of.

He scanned a directory and saw that most of the offices here were occupied with small businesses and miscellaneous things such as acupunctures and massages. Quiet, he noted as he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor—probably no smoking either—which seemed fit for the reason he was here. People that were like him didn't want to go to somewhere vibrant and energetic; they wanted somewhere quiet, where they felt like they could be heard and listened to.

It was silent as he walked there, his shoes unnecessarily loud as he walked down the linoleum floor, passing by closed doors and hardly glancing at the signs. A few potted plants and chairs were against the walls but, aside from those, the hallway was bare and empty, a rather depressing place to be in. Concerned, the blonde took a glance at his watch; he was only a few minutes late and hadn't been expecting many people to show up, but still he didn't expect to be the only one late…

His steps slowed to a halt in front of the last door at the end of the hallway, eyes reading the sign before he put his hand on the doorknob. Reminding himself that it was too late to back out, he turned and entered, looking around cautiously. As expected, not many people were there, he thought as he closed the door behind him and looked around. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting but he saw most people sitting two to a table, seeming to be exchanging small talk and light smiles, awkwardness so heavy he could almost see it hanging above their heads.

_Maybe this is the wrong place…?_

"Welcome!" a bright voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned to see a female smiling at him, holding a clipboard to her chest. "Are you here for the self help meeting?"

_Right place after all._ He gave a curt nod.

"Wonderful!" her smile seemed to widen and Shizuo wanted to take a step back, unaccustomed to someone so cheerful. "I'm glad you came! Although this is a bit unusual, we're simply pairing up for this first meeting; it's important to meet someone you don't know and tell him or her everything. It's always uncomfortable to do that and even more so with a big group of people, so today it's just one on one. Ah, there's someone that needed a partner… oh! There he is!"

While she had been talking, a blonde brow had been arched. He assumed it would be a group meeting in a circle, one of those typical meetings that were portrayed by the media. Although this approach that she was talking about made sense—he would much rather tell everything to a stranger than someone he knew if he had to tell someone—but it still seemed odd to force them to be this open on the first day.

_Then again,_ Shizuo thought, _I did agree to come._

All he hoped was that the person he was with would be understanding and nonjudgmental, something he wasn't too worried about because, he figured, if the other person was here, he mustn't be so clean and pure either. He heard footsteps behind him and prepared to turn around to see who he would be talking to, when the voice made him freeze, dread flooding him.

"Orihara Izaya," a silky smooth voice sent chills down Shizuo's spin and he turned around slowly, eyes widening to see that familiar faux smile and outstretched hand, ring on the index finger, "pleasure to meet you."

**author's notes: I do intend on having Mikado and the others appear. I'm just delaying it because I'm not sure how to write them and their role, haha. I'm sorry for such a late update; I've been slacking… thank you for reading, reviews are appreciated and adored!**


	4. playtime

**disclaimer: don't own.**

**chapter four: playtime **

* * *

"_Something else is hurting you - that's why you need pot or whiskey, or whips and rubber suits, or screaming music turned so fucking loud you can't think."_

-Charles Bukowski

* * *

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Shizuo hissed, glaring at Izaya's outstretched hand, wary to shake it.

"Aaah, you're not making me feel very welcome!" Izaya mocked a pout. "Do I not get a name?"

"Get lost, bastard!"

"I see you're acquainted already!" the woman chirped happily and gave both of them a pat on the shoulder before turning around and walking off, leaving Shizuo aghast at how she handled the group of people that she was supposed to care about. The blond gave a scowl at her retreating back; this was a terrible idea, he thought, it probably wasn't too late to walk out now, have a smoke, go back to his apartment, get dressed in more comfortable clothing, go to a bar…

"Shizu-chan, don't ignore me, yeah? That's not very nice!"

_...Almost forgot about him._

Irritably, Shizuo turned around to give a menacing glare to the smiling raven, wanting to snap that skinny little neck.

"How did you find out my name?"

"Ah, peered at her clipboard!" he answered nonchalantly and gave a shrug. "Shall we sit then, Shizu-chan?" He walked over to the nearest table and took a seat, waiting expectantly for Shizuo to sit across from him. The blond hesitated but obliged and Izaya smirked.

Heiwajima Shizuo, he had read, and that name sounded familiar; it was only a few moments before he remembered that Shinra had said something about wanting him to meet a friend. Was this the same Shizuo?, Izaya wondered, if it was, Shinra probably thought that problematic friends would get along.

_I'm afraid you're wrong again, Shinra._

"So Shizu-chan—"

"Stop calling me that."

"What's wrong with _you_?" Izaya asked brightly as he rested an arm across the back of the chair and crossed his arms, smirking at the man seated across the table from him. "You seem to be an upstanding citizen, saving those that you think are in dire need of salvation with your brute force… ah, there seems to be absolutely nothing wrong with you…!"

"You're fuckin' annoying as hell…" Shizuo growled, bringing a hand up to his face in exasperation. The one time he was finally ready to try to change his ways, to tell someone everything, it was someone like _him_? Someone that Shizuo could tell he hated already and wouldn't be the accepting type?

_My luck is shit._

"Ne ne, Shizu-chan," Izaya's voice cut into his thoughts and he found the raven leaning forward on the table, hands folded and elbows on the cold metal. "Tell me about yourself!"

"I don't want to."

"Stubborn like a child," Izaya feigned an exaggerated sigh. But his expression soon turned serious and he gave a cunning smirk. One arm raised so that he could lean his chin to his palm, head tilted as he gazed evenly at Shizuo. "Come on now, Shizu-chan. Tell me, yeah? You came here to tell someone you didn't know just what's wrong about you, so here's your chance. What's the worst that can happen?"

"You—"

"Who knows if you'll see me again?" Izaya interrupted and Shizuo scowled that his mind was read so easily. "Even I can't guarantee you an answer to that, Shizu-chan! Perhaps there's someone that both of us know or maybe there isn't; you're going to let that one bridge incident cause you to keep your secrets all to yourself?"

"…You are annoying as hell," Shizuo growled, narrowing his eyes at him. But he supposed that Izaya had a point; there was no guarantee they would see each other again because it was a freak coincidence and the point of coming here _was_ to get it off his chest. The blond gave a sigh and closed his eyes, hanging his head for a moment. "If I tell you… then you tell me why you came." It seemed fair and waited until Izaya gave a nod in agreement.

Hanging his head, Shizuo gave a quiet sigh and waited a few moments before he began to speak, feeling his heart seem to jump to his throat and start pounding. The very idea of saying this out loud was terrifying to him because he had never done so before, always keeping it to himself. Celty and Shinra had figured it out and so he never had to admit it, sparing him of that, but Shizuo knew that if he wanted to "get better" he had to say the words.

"I'm…" he croaked out the first word but soon fell silent again, closing his eyes and furrowing his brow, "…addicted to sex."

"…Eh? That's—"

"Shut up," he growled looking up to silence the raven. "Not done yet."

Eyes narrowing, Shizuo frowned and drummed a few fingers against the table. It seemed that he and Izaya were the only ones that were quiet, although that was his fault; quiet murmurs were resounding from other tables and he wondered how these people could so easily talk about their feelings willingly. While he knew he could talk, it was a matter of willpower; opening his mouth and sounding the words was easy but to feel comfortable and to want to was a completely different thing.

But he had to, he knew, there was a reason he came and he wasn't going to leave without knowing someone knew everything.

"…Because I'm lonely," he stated plainly and swallowed, "…And I don't… want… to be alone."

Izaya was gazing at him innocently, narrow chin resting against his palm. His red eyes were blinking patiently as he waited for Shizuo to speak, expression resonating such honesty that Shizuo began to let his guard down.

"I just… I know it's wrong," he reached up and scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "but I don't know what else to do. There are times where I just feel so alone and… I want to be with someone. And talking isn't enough and if I fuck them then, at least for a bit, I'm okay. And I'm distracted."

He fell silent again and this time didn't feel any more words threatening to tear from his throat. There was more to say, he knew, but he didn't want to; he told himself he would talk to someone and tell them and he did, even if it was a lousy bastard like Izaya. He told someone the situation and the very basis of it; he saw no need to go into things he couldn't yet put into coherent words.

"Done?"

"…Yeah."

He lifted his gaze to meet Izaya's, surprised by the smile that was perched on the other party's face. And for a moment, he found himself believing Izaya, thinking that maybe he wasn't a terrible person after all.

"Ah, I suppose it's my turn to say why I'm here…"

Even someone like Izaya had a story, Shizuo thought, and maybe his demeanor was a result of something that happened; it wouldn't be fair for him to judge the raven so quickly, after all.

"I came here today…"

Izaya looked at him, same smile on his lips.

"…just out of curiosity for other's so called "problems." So thank you, Shizu-chan, for sharing!"

It was that day that Shizuo found out that plastic chairs flew through the air rather well.

* * *

"Bastard bastard bastard…"

"Ha? Shizuo? What are…?"

"Bastard bastard bastard…"

Shizuo continued to mutter the word under his breath as he walked past Shinra, hands in his pockets. After the less than spectacular first time acquaintance at the meeting, he had gone to a park to try to calm himself; it seemed that it was in the presence of others—not _those_ kinds of others but mothers and children—that Shizuo was able to calm, feel his heart rate return to normal, and hot flashes of anger subside. But it was getting dark and there weren't many people left and an hour later, Shizuo more than knew where he would end if he continued to loiter and headed to Shinra's before the temptation could grow stronger.

He memorized the path—this wasn't the first occasion something like this happened—and it only took three kicks at the door before it opened, revealing a surprised Shinra.

"Actually, Shizuo, this is great timing! I want you to meet-!"

"What the fuck is _he_ doing here?!"

"—oh you know each other?"

Shinra's smile froze and Celty took a timid step back when she felt the murderous intent from Shizuo as his gaze locked with Izaya's. Sitting comfortably on the couch, Izaya had one arm slung over the back and the other hand was holding a teacup to his lips, ankle crossed over his knee. His smirk was lazy and unperturbed as he watched Shizuo carefully, taking a sip.

"Ah, Shizu-chan. Has your addiction already been satiated for tonight?" he asked and his smirk widened to see Shizuo's fists clench, noticing Celty and Shinra exchanging surprised glances. Reaching up his free arm to pull the sleeve down, he took a glance at his watch and frowned. "It's still early… but I guess with your good looks it won't take that long, yeah?"

"You…!"

"Wait, wait, Shizuo, don't destroy my apartment!"

The man was restrained by Shinra and he growled, never once breaking his glare. Izaya continued to smirk at him, completely unaffected by the close experience he nearly had with death. Celty looked between them with a frown, PDA held to her chest closely until she managed to quickly type 'how do you two know each other?'

"Hm? Oh, that group you told me about, Shinra."

"You went?"

Shinra's eyes widened and he let go of Shizuo, an action that had Celty flinching. The woman hurried over to stand in front of Shizuo and wave her hands as needed to grab his attention and stop him from rampaging towards Izaya while Shinra flocked to the raven. "You went? Aah, Izaya, you listened to me! So how was it?"

"I learned some valuable things about Shizu-chan," he answered with a smile that had Shizuo's temper flaring again. "Mm… if you ever to, you know, spend a night with me, Shizu-chan… I kindly ask you buy me three drinks first. Maybe two, if I'm in a good mood."

"Like hell I'd want you!"

"But won't you go for anyone when you're lonely?" Izaya asked.

When Shizuo felt his body run cold, Izaya's smirk only widened in front of him and he slipped past stealthily and Shinra found himself nearly thrown off the couch. The furniture itself was toppled over and Shizuo was holding Izaya up by his shirt; knuckles were white from the grip and he was glaring so coldly, so harshly that he was prepared to leave Izaya as nothing but a corpse in the middle of the living room.

"You goddamn bastard," he snarled. "I don't know what kind of sick twisted _fucking_ pleasure you get, but my problems are _not_ for your damn entertainment, do you hear me? If you think you're better than me or shit because you can afford to exploit other people, then, fuck you. You're nothing but _scum_, Izaya, the lowest of them. There's no one sicker than someone who likes to watch others suffer."

But as he spoke, he could see Izaya's smirk turn more malicious. There wasn't an ounce of regret in his words and for a blinding moment, Shizuo wondered if this man was sociopathic. But that sadistic joy he saw ruined the thought; he wasn't a sociopath because he felt a twisted happiness and satisfaction at the expense of others.

_You're just a straight up bastard._

"Shizuo, let go of him!"

Standing, the blond dropped Izaya and watched coldly as he fixed his clothes. Izaya stood along with him and cleared his throat, rubbed his neck as he looked to Shinra with faux formality. "I think I'll take my leave tonight, Shinra. Feed my portion of dinner to the dog, will you?"

Taking his coat, Izaya slipped past the silent observers in the room and disappeared without another word, closing the door behind him. Shizuo's breathing was still and shallow; fists clenched in an effort to keep himself calm. Celty began typing something, evidenced by the sound of the keyboard, but fell silent and hurried back to the kitchen once she heard a pot begin to bubble over.

"Shizuo?"

Shinra called his name quietly and while he didn't turn around, Shizuo didn't shrug his hand off. This was his friend, he reminded himself, Shinra was a friend, someone he trusted wholeheartedly. When he turned to look at him, the doctor was smiling slightly and raised a hand to fix his frames.

"Did Izaya say he went just for amusement or something?"

Shizuo nodded. It wasn't uncommon for Shinra to pick up on a small detail like that; he was, after all, intelligent. It was just his personality that often had Shizuo forgetting he was a doctor. A nod was given and Shinra fixed his glasses again. "Do you want to know why he's actually going there?"

"I don't care," he snapped.

Shinra gave a small laugh at the sharp response, noticing that Shizuo didn't make any attempt to walk off so he wouldn't have to hear. Whether or not Izaya cared wasn't something Shinra was preoccupied with; since he had gone, a silent contract had been signed that Izaya would be all right with someone from the group knowing. And, as far as he figured, Shizuo was part of that group, even if they got off to a horrible start.

"He's depressed."

Eyes narrowed but Shizuo didn't show any other signs of surprise. He certainly didn't expect Izaya to be depressed, but the blond knew better than to judge.

"He's… how do I put this…" Shinra muttered. "I guess… in a way he's plastic? From what I've seen, he's not very good at forming personal bonds."

"Obviously."

"Izaya isn't like that solely by choice," Shinra said with the quietest of laughs. "There's a part of him that honestly believes he can't form meaningful bonds, and that hinders his ability to. He thinks he can't love, not the way he should. He can't love a friend, he can't love someone romantically. Once he said that maybe he's half sociopathic, but I told him that was impossible. Anyway, think about it. What's the point of being alive if you can't form those bonds? You're lonely, aren't you? You should understand, then, more than anyone how awful it is to be lonely. Izaya's like that. He can't form bonds and, at this point in life, if he does, he's worried someone will hurt him. He won't show it, but that's how he feels. Deep down, Izaya's more scared than any of us. It's not necessarily commitment that scares him, it's just the idea of making himself the slightest bit vulnerable to anyone."

The smell of stew filled the air and he could hear Celty busying herself in the kitchen. Lids were taken off of pots and food was stirred; plates were taken out of cupboards and utensils laid on a table. But Shizuo didn't stir; the idea of Izaya being vulnerable was laughable. Based on his first few impressions, Izaya seemed to be, annoyingly, overflowing with confidence.

_But it's those people that are the most scared, right?_

"Hm…"

Shinra frowned and brought a hand up to his chin. "You know, I really do wonder why he even went. Maybe it's because of you."

Shizuo's eyes narrowed. "Didn't you tell him to?"

"Well, yeah… but I didn't _expect_ him to actually go… this might actually be the first time he's listened to me," Shinra noted thoughtfully. "It's just… I don't… think Izaya has any intentions of getting better. You'd have to ask him why. There's something about depression that sometimes people just want to give up. The sadness can be addictive. Maybe Izaya's addicted to it like you are to…"

"Don't."

"Right. My point is… he's actually really sad. Not in the mocking way, either. He's an asshole, but he's still human and he's suffering."

"Tch," Shizuo scoffed and put his hands in his pockets, closing his eyes. "I bet he told you all of that just to fuck with me."

"Actually, he's never told me any of that."

Shizuo looked over his shoulder to Shinra, frowning at the doctor's smile.

"That's the thing with Izaya. The things you really need to know, he won't tell you. And if you figure it out by yourself… well, that's how he'll consider you a friend."

* * *

"I've made another enemy."

"I don't care."

Yagiri Namie may not have been the most cheerful of company, but Izaya suspected it had something to do with how she didn't like him. Hands reached behind his head and laced together, the swivel chair he occupied leaning back as he watched the way Namie walked across his living room to organize papers. Despite their personal relationship, he knew that her trust was bought with her salary; even though she could care less that if she slipped just one word and Izaya would be dead or in jail, she kept her mouth shut.

An absolute trust for a purely superficial means. She was a prime example of one of his precious humans, Izaya always thought.

In a manila folder that rested on the pull out of his desk were papers of Izaya's extensive research on Shizuo; a background check, he would call it, just a formality, because they would be getting close. He had a clean record and Izaya grew rather bored; the most interesting bit of Shizuo had been divulged to him during that meeting.

An English major that was unemployed; he wondered how Shizuo was able to support himself before making the connection between him and Hanejima Yuhei. _Then again_, the raven thought, _I don't imagine him taking money…_

He had grown bored quickly but printed out the pages anyway and kept them safe. For the first time in a while, Shizuo had peaked his interest, as the man had gone from saving his life (or so he thought) out of the goodness of his heart to absolutely loathing him (with reason, naturally.) His reactions to both had seemed so disgustingly human that it made Izaya smile in the most sardonic of mannerisms as he watched Heiwajima Shizuo go from "hero" (although he was probably too good hearted to see it as such) to "victim" (probably too prideful to see it as sch.)

Leaning forward, Izaya's bony elbows rested on his desk and a chin rested upon thumbs that were together, the pads of his fingers meeting in turn and rhythmically. A dark brow furrowed and he vaguely heard Namie say something before a door slammed shut, indicating her departure from his apartment. The screen of his laptop flickered and the monitor had been turned off a while ago; work had been put off (the nice thing about his job was that unless he had an incentive to work quickly, it was almost as if he could be in charge of his clients) and he had no intention of focusing on it just yet.

A few days had passed since the dinner at Shinra's; he had received a whined lecture from Shinra about how he was absolutely awful at making friends and Celty stopped by the day after to give him a bit of the leftovers. For someone who clearly didn't like him, he found her persistent kindness surprising. She was one of his more peculiar humans.

Naturally, Shizuo didn't contact him or bring him up at all with Shinra. And, naturally, Izaya didn't either, even though he had the blond's phone number. The next therapy, self help group, whatever he cared to call it, meeting was in a few days and Izaya had qualms about going. Surely, Shizuo would be there, but Izaya wasn't sure if he felt like having a chair thrown at him. He could always find him through Shinra (it was guaranteed, Izaya knew, that he would persist in making them friends), but even the raven could feel a shred of guilt for ruining his friend's apartment. He wasn't a sociopath, after all, despite what people said.

_I have feelings,_ he'd drawl, _I have a conscience. It's just that it's a bit easier for me to ignore it sometimes, hmm?_

Furthermore, he thought, the self help group would be a complete waste of time for someone who had no intentions of getting better. Shinra had an idea about it (Izaya could tell by the look on his face), but the Orihara didn't plan on assuaging those fears. It was selfish, he knew, to think that way, but ultimately in the end, his life was his own, and what was done to it was completely his choice.

To "get better" meant to live, to continue to survive, persevere, and fight. And to someone who had already failed several times to take his life, the prospect of that was horrifying. All of his efforts would have gone to waste, the mindset he had had for the past several years would have to be reversed. Izaya was strong, in one sense, but certainly not the sense that would fit this idea of "getting better."

Something that relied so heavily on willpower such as that would undoubtedly fail with Izaya. His willpower, nearly all of it, was focused solely on something else. The motivation Izaya had to live was just enough to keep him alive; it kept him afloat, but the anchor attached to his ankle wasn't light enough for him to be able to pull himself out of water.

Giving a sigh, his arms collapsed and folded across the desk to serve as something softer for his head to lay open. Eyes closed and dark lashes contrasted to pale cheeks; Izaya's body moved as he breathed. Sunlight filtered in through the windows and black attracted the rays. For now it was all right, but he knew he would be getting up to close the blinds in a bit.

"Bored…" he muttered and opened his eyes, propped his chin on his folded arms. "Ah, so bored, so bored…"

A sudden burst of energy had him spinning around in his chair and standing up, a slight lightheaded feeling overcoming him for a few moments. But his vision cleared and he was able to look through the window, down at the city that was his home. The university was just a bit away and cars were more visible than people; light reflected off of the windows of office buildings, so bright it was almost blinding.

In a city so bustling, Izaya couldn't believe he was bored. He often found himself envisioning Tokyo as his playpen and humans as babies (not his, necessarily) and he was their caretaker. Babies or not, Izaya found it fun to take a rattle from one and give it to another, see if the baby would be smart enough to realize and do something.

Perhaps adults weren't babies, and while Izaya wasn't sure what a baby would do, he did know adults reacted just as he should.

A smirk etched across the Orihara's lips.

"Shizu-chan… looks like I've taken your rattle."

**author's notes: let's just focus on the positive: I did update. yay yay looks like I'm falling into bad habits of getting lazy… ahaha… but it is summer so hopefully I'll manage to be more productive… thank you for reading this chapter (and still being here) and comments are much appreciated!**


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